Melizabeth Vignettes
by Llowyn Maelai
Summary: A series of one or two-shots that center around Meliodas and Elizabeth, written as the mood takes me. There will be spoilers from the anime and the manga alike, so be prepared. While some parts will take place within canon, not all of them will be. (Rated T, because Meliodas has grabby hands and there will be lots of innuendo.)
1. Until We go Down

**A/N:** _I should be sleeping right now, getting ready for a huge move this weekend. But nah, I'll sleep when I'm dead._

 **Spoilers for the Anime series and the Manga. Read at your own peril.**

* * *

I'd heard gossip about a Rust Knight wandering around these parts for days, and I admit that I was curious. As far-fetched as it sounded, I thought it might be one of the Sins I'd been trying to covertly look for. I went about my business of serving ale and amusingly-terrible food, all the while plastering a bright, Demon-may-care grin on my face.

A patron yanked the door open, shaking in spite of himself, claiming that he had seen the Rust Knight. Others went about trying to play it down in their drunken stupor, claiming that he'd been seeing things.

It was rather surprising when Hawk mentioned he caught the scent of rust from outside. The sound of my bar door creaking outward again, and the shadow of a huge set of badly-unkempt armor blotted out the sun, was enough to send the patrons running and set my clean up crew of one was shaking in his hooves.

"The … Seven … Deadly … Sins…"

Hawk was squealing for his life; I was merely curious about this person. So I hopped over the bar counter and landed lightly on my feet before the knight. "Who are you?"

It was then that the poor Knight inside the suit of armor pitched backwards. When the helmet fell away from the impact, I felt my insides seize up & my hearts clench. _Elizabeth_ …

Of all the bars in all the cities in all of Britannia, she walks into mine.

 _Well, I guess it was more like a stumble than a walk, really._

* * *

Somehow I managed to extract her from the armor without so much as scratching her. How long had she been wandering around the forest and countryside, trying to find the Sins? It must have been at least a few days. Maybe even a week or two? She was so thin…

"It's a girl!" stated my porcine friend.

Said girl was passed out on the bed of a spare bedroom in the Boar's Hat, and I stopped to consider my options. The romanticist in me wanted to seize her up and kiss her. The demon wanted to devour her physically and metaphorically. That was tempting; it _had_ been sixteen years. But the persona I'd perfected over the last several decades was a lecher, especially when it came to her.

"Let's check," I answered half-seriously, half-jokingly. As I popped over to her bedside, I could feel Hawk's shock at my actions. I had to play the part of both not knowing her, and being a pervert, and my poker face was excellent, if I do say so myself.

I leaned down next to her face & considered her. "This face…" I stood up and put my fists on my hips, shaking my ass. "These curves…" I stooped over her and closed my eyes, inhaling, almost losing my composure but playing it off well. "This fragrance... "

And then I grabbed her right breast and gave it a few good squeezes unabashedly. "This springiness…" I squished her gently a few more times for good measure, searing it into my mind.

"She's a girl, all right!" I announced seriously, which earned an ear-piercing yell from the pig behind me.

"That's obvious!"

I suppose it was the talking or squee'ing of Hawk that woke her, because it couldn't have been me mildly molesting her that roused the woman. The single eye that wasn't hidden by the usual curtain of silken strands was always the same shade of ocean blue that she always had. When she fixed it on me, the shackles within locked back into place, and I mentally threw away the keys.

"Um… Excuse me..." she blushed.

I stepped back away from her a few paces, mostly for her as well as myself. "Your heart seems fine," I offered as an excuse for my groping, which she innocently bought with a quiet word of thanks.

I watched her carefully without staring as she looked around the room. As she asked where she was & how she got there, I told her what happened. The surprise when I showed her the broken blade of my sword was cute. It was even more charming when she ran over to hug Hawk after she heard him talking. She mentioned that she'd always wanted a pig as a pet and was excited that this one could talk. Hawk seemed a little put out at first, but I'm sure he'll warm up to her.

Everyone does eventually.

I offered her something to eat, and she willingly tried it; she must have been starving, because I know how bad a cook I am. I let my shock show when she started to cry after the first bite; she said it was still delicious in the same breath.

"Hey… What were you doing, walking around in that suit of armor anyway?"

I watched her consider my question for a moment, before answering, "I'm looking for the Seven Deadly Sins."

 _She was looking for me? For us?_

* * *

Later that evening, after we were attacked and she found out that I was the Dragon's Sin of Wrath, I sat alone at the bar in the dark, while she slept upstairs. I beat myself up mentally; I'd almost lost her again.

The sight of her falling off the cliff edge replayed over and over in my head, and it was difficult to breathe.

I had left the castle when she was barely six, half to get away from the charges against us for those disgustingly false accusations, but also to prevent her from harm. Something wicked had happened there right under my nose, and it all started with the murder of Zaratras.

The sound of my fist slamming into my bar top shook me out of my thoughts; I didn't stop to register the dent it had made.

Dammit! I was trying to avoid her for as long as I could. Keep her alive as long as possible. The closer she got to me, the sooner all Hell would break loose.

Who am I kidding? I'm just as drawn to her as she is to me.

It was no surprise to me that my body had carried me soundlessly up to her room in the dead of night. The door barely creaked as I stepped in, and there I stood next to it, watching her sleep. Making sure she was still there… still breathing…

She is not Liz.

But she _is_.

I was beside her in an instant, standing over her, a hair away from touching her face. I could feel her breath brushing against my fingers, and it sent delicious shivers across my skin.

Did I have the right to touch this girl? Probably not. But it didn't stop me, and it never would. The pull to touch her every chance I had wouldn't be denied, because there always seemed to be a limit on the time we had together.

"... The hell with it," I whispered, and traced my fingers on her cheek. It was almost my undoing.

I felt my blood sing in my veins, demonic incarnate. If she had been awake, I'm sure she'd have seen my eyes return to their normal red-black, and the mark above my right brow surface. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to hold her, to love her, to possess her. I resisted.

I backed away from her, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to regain my control. What was that about wanting to spend as much time with her as I could? It would be over before it began if I lost control now.

I was outside before anyone knew, and half a kilometer from the bar before I stopped and remembered to breathe. This was a new beginning, and I'll be damned if I squander it. I'm going to pretend to fall in love with her slowly, and let her come to love me in her own way; in her own time.

Until we go down.


	2. Broken

**A/N:** I had this flash of a thought while having a hard time with some RL stuff today. Be prepared for angst.

* * *

When I heard about Liz, it took everything in me not to bolt away at that moment. I stood my ground and listened to everything, trying to school my features and countenance, as to not give away my distress. I went about the day as normal, badly waitressing in the Boar's Hat, plastering on the perfect facade in order to keep the patrons happy, and peering eyes away from sinking into the rapidly cooling depths of my heart. But when I was alone later that night, I let down my guard.

I wept in the bed like it was the end of the world.

Because it was.

I'd known for a while that I was in love with him. Truth be told, I had fallen in love with him at first sight. I hadn't allowed myself to realize it in that moment, exhausted as I was, stumbling into the tavern that fateful afternoon.

I steadfastly ignored it the best I could, feeling extremely embarrassed at every grope, caress, leer and touch he gave. But also feeling excited, charged, and left wanting when they were over.

He made me feel in a way that no one else had, and no one else ever would again. It had felt as though a part of me that I had long lost without realizing, had finally snapped back into place, and I felt completely whole again.

And now I was cracked, like one of the glass steins we serve Vanya Ale in every night, that I always seem to drop on the floor, whenever I trip over some imaginary knot protruding from the hardwood below my flats.

A fresh wave of loss swept over my body from my curled toes to my scalp, and I buried my face as hard as I could into the pillows, whining in spite of myself as I inhaled his unique scent. It only caused me to cry harder, sobs wracking my frame. I could hardly catch my breath between each sob, and it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on my chest.

I coiled my body into a fetal position, clutching his pillow to me like it was the only thing that stood between me and oblivion. His pillow, this shared mattress, and the scent of spice, smoke, and steel. Eventually I had exhausted myself into slumber, but it didn't last long.

The ever-so-faint creak of the door roused me from my near-sleep, but I forced myself to stay still and my breath not to hitch. I kept it even, straining to listen to the soft footsteps. I felt his aura stop at the edge of the bed and could tell his eyes were locked onto a spot just between my shoulder blades.

The mattress dipped away from me as he leaned against it. I felt the heat of his fingertips hovering just over my shoulder, a hair's' breadth away from actual contact. Every fiber of my being was spent on forcing myself to breathe, even though I really wanted to hold it in.

"Elizabeth…"

I thought I had imagined the word, his voice was so quiet. But I knew he had said my name. My traitorous body erupted in goose-flesh at the sound. The bed dipped a little further away from my back as more of his weight leaned into it. He still wasn't touching me. Why wasn't he touching me?

Because I am not _her_.

I no longer had command of my own body, and I began to hold my breath. His thumb whispered over my arm, and I jerked away from him. He didn't even hesitate and gripped my upper arm in a firm grip, but not overpowering.

"What's wrong, Elizabeth? Tell me," he whispered more urgently. Pleadingly.

I said nothing. I just stayed there, facing away from him, trying to stop the tears from dripping down my face.

He pulled me closer to the middle of the bed, his weight shifting, until he was diagonally above me. Each of his hands were flat against the pillow beside my head, the left pinning me in place as it trapped my hair unintentionally.

I didn't dare open my eyes.

"Talk to me, please," he begged. "I can't take seeing you in pain anymore. It's driving me crazy that I can't fix it."

"T-there's nothing to fix," I stammered out, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could. "I'm fine," I lied.

"People who are fine don't spend hours crying alone in the dark," he rationed rather bitterly.

He had a point. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of winning this 'fight'. So I did what any wounded woman would do, when the love of their life has them pinned and wants to know something, that the woman doesn't want to or isn't ready to admit.

I kneed him swiftly in the groin.

He had the grace to at least pretend that my measly action caused him pain, and he let me get to the door, before he had me pinned against it with his hands on either side of my arms.

The door locked behind me and he narrowed his green eyes at me for a moment, only slightly. His stare sank through my flesh and latched onto my soul; I shivered in spite of myself, but I didn't dare blink my visible blue eye at him.

"How can I fix this? Fix 'us'?"

"There isn't an 'us'," I said automatically, my voice gravelly from the soreness of hours spent crying, raw and broken. It didn't even sound like me.

It affected him visibly. His arms dropped and wound around my middle, pulling me as tightly to him as he could. I stood there motionless, blushing, but I did not reach for him like I usually did.

"There will _always_ be an 'us', Elizabeth. Only 'us'. Forever," he muttered almost too low for me to hear, his face buried in the valley between my breasts.

I had only recently discovered just how jealous and vindictive I could be. I hated this part of myself. "And what about Liz?" I couldn't hold myself back, or the bitterness from seeping in.

He twitched, and looked up at me, wide eyed with fear for a split second, then sighed, resting his ear against my heart.

"Don't be greedy, Elizabeth," I bristled, but he was still talking.

"Liz was my past. You are my present. I have been yours since the day I found you at Danafor. I live now only for you," he gripped me even tighter; I felt the slight tremble of his limbs.

My resolve cracked with those words. I crumpled into him, grasping him to my body closer. It would never be close enough.

"Melodias-sama…" I managed. He sighed against me in relief. It would take time, but… I never could stay mad at him for long.

What was once broken, could now be reforged.


End file.
